Fortnight ago a tall, emaciated, shabby old man sat slumped in Cincinnati's Union Station. He had fainted. The Travelers' Aid agent roused him, asked if anything could be done for him. The old man slowly raised his grey head, looked long at the agent, said apologetically: ''You would be very kind to notify Attorney Nicholas Klein. . . ."
Mr. Klein, prosperous Cincinnati lawyer, hastened to the station, was less astounded to find his vagrant friend James Eads How there than to see him so decrepit. They sped to the Klein home. A...
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